


A Night at JFK

by Butsinceimetyou



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 07:15:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2963744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butsinceimetyou/pseuds/Butsinceimetyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Seblaine Holiday Extravaganza: Sebastian and Blaine meeting at the airport en route home for the holidays when they are stranded after a snow storm hits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night at JFK

“Attention Delta Airline’s flyers, flight 156 JFK to Columbus has been delayed. Stand by for further notice.”

 “Goddammit, seriously?!” Sebastian Smythe exclaimed with a huff. He noticed an older woman sitting nearby giving him a rather harsh glare. “Sorry.” He grumbled, settling down further into his chair. Having years of experience with Delta Airlines, Sebastian was well aware that “delayed” usually meant hours and hours of waiting. And, considering it was the week before Christmas, snow whirling around every part of the eastern United States, he would most likely be sleeping at the airport tonight. Delightful. Accepting his fate, Sebastian extracted a worn paperback from his carryon bag that was seated in the chair next to him. Time flit by as he turned page after page, becoming completely absorbed in the novel that he had read so many times before.

                “ _The Picture of Dorian Gray_? Hmm, I wouldn’t take you for a Wilde fan from a first glance.” Sounded a voice in front of him. Sebastian lifted his head, gazing up at the man standing in front of him. He wore a gray beanie, curls sticking out under it in every which way, a black pea coat, and dark wash skinny jeans. His olive skin looked soft to the touch, and his hazel eyes sheened under the bright florescent light of the airport.

                “Uh, um, excuse me? What did you say?” Sebastian asked the beautiful stranger, clearly befuddled. The man, who look about his age, smiled, and gestured to the book in Sebastian’s hands,

                “I was simply noticing your choice of literature… Also, would you mind if I sit here?” He asked, leveling his eyes with the seat next to Sebastian.

                “Oh, of course.” Sebastian rushed out, quickly grabbing his bag, and sliding it under his seat. The man smiled gratefully before sitting down, and turning back to Sebastian, holding out his hand,

                “I’m Blaine, by the way. Blaine Anderson” He told him, smiling brightly. Sebastian shook his hand, smiling himself,

                “Sebastian Smythe. Are you waiting for the flight to Columbus, as well?” He asked. Blaine sighed,

                “Unfortunately.” He breathed out. Sebastian watched as the other man slid out of his coat, revealing a comfy looking burgundy cardigan and a striped Henley underneath, “I’m heading home to Westerville for Christmas. Well, trying to, at least.” He said, referring to the delay. Sebastian was taken aback by Blaine’s words,

                “I’m from Westerville, too.” Sebastian confessed.

“What a small world! So, do go to school here in New York then?” Blaine queried.

                “Yeah, I’m study literature at Columbia” Sebastian declared, somewhat proudly. Blaine smiled at that,  

                “Oooo, Columbia, very nice.  I’m a lit major, too, at NYU.” Blaine said with a grin, “So, Oscar Wilde is your favorite then?”

                “What makes you think he’s my favorite?” Sebastian asked curiously.

                “Because that book looks like it has lived quite the life. Unless, perhaps, you bought it used?” He questioned.

                “No, not used. He is my favorite; you got me. I love Dorian Gray. It was one of the first books that I read that really stuck with me.” Sebastian confessed.

                “Ah, yes, what is more relatable than a rich brat that sells his soul to maintain his youth?” Blaine said with a laugh. Sebastian rolled his eyes, playfully, at the other man.

                “It’s not the story itself. It’s Wilde’s way with words. I love the ebb and flow of his prose. No matter than context of the story, his words are like leaves in the wind. Beautiful swooshes in the air.” Sebastian told Blaine. “There is a sense of passion in his novelistic writing that I have always found resounding.” He looked back over to Blaine, finding the other man smiling, softly.

                “The way you speak of something you are clearly so passionate about is rather lovely, you know.” Blaine confessed, before sitting up, “Unfortunately, I do not share your sentiments on Mr. Wilde, but that is neither here nor there.”

                “Well, what do you think of him?” Sebastian pushed, clearly fascinated. Blaine let out a small humph,

                “You’re not going to like it…I find that Wilde’s novelistic writing is too decadent. He’s a literary genius, of course, and _The Picture of Dorian Gray_ is certainly a timeless classic, but, personally, I prefer his plays.” Blaine confessed, “However, I might reconsider my opinion, on account of what you have said of him.” Sebastian smiled at that.

                “You are a very interesting man, Mr. Anderson.” Sebastian said with earnest. “I thought I was going to spend my day scowling away, all alone in an airport, not discussing the literary prowess of Oscar Wilde with a beautiful man.” Blaine blushed at his last comment.

                “Well, I’ll say in simpler turns: I’m glad I met you, too.” Blaine told him, smiling shyly. Sebastian felt a warmth deep in his gut, a feeling of excitement and joy. This man, Blaine, had made Sebastian feel things in a matter of ten minutes that no other man had made him feel before.

                “So, Blaine, since we’re probably going to be here all night… would you be interested in heading over to Starbucks for a cup of coffee, maybe continue this literary confab?” Sebastian asked, hope shining in his emerald eyes.

                “I’d love to.”


End file.
